The Cat and the Squirrel
by BecAlora
Summary: Seduction isn’t making someone do what they don’t want to do. Seduction is all about enticing someone into doing what they already secretly want to do.


**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything. This was written for the Pansy/Harry ficexchange on livejournal.

Contrary to popular belief, Pansy was _no_ easy lay. Not at all.

In fact, the only person that she'd ever slept with was Blaise Zabini. It was late Fourth Year and she'd made him work like hell for it, too. He'd had to carry her books, walk her to every one of her classes, hang out with her and her friends, do her homework, and more. Unfortunately, the experience itself had been very sobering, full of very awkward fumbling and disappointment.

_"Are you sure you're doing this right?"_

"Yes," Blaise answered, voice thick with exasperation and impatience.

"I mean how do you know? It's not like you've done this before," Pansy replied, shifting a little to the left.

Blaise glared then tried lining it up again—and, "It's in."

She made a face. "Really? I don't feel any—" He moved. "OWW! Now I do!"

And it had hurt. Blaise was by no means small, and she had felt like she was being ripped in two. And from that point, it didn't get any better. In fact, it just got _messier_. Needless to say, Pansy hadn't liked—or even tried—sex since. She supposed the reason she had gotten her "lovely" reputation was because she liked to _play_

It was true. Pansy Parkinson had mastered the art of making boys beg, and she loved doing it. Even more so, she loved to leave them hanging, so to speak. It was fun to play cat and mouse, to make boys think they had her wrapped around their finger. And they were just so _gullible_! By the time they figured out that Pansy was not the simpering, naïve cow she seemed to be, they were in the broom closet, pants around their ankles, feeling completely inadequate. And Pansy would take a final look, smirk, and leave without a word. She loved to break them, but was particularly pleased when some of them cried in utter frustration.

_"Why are your clothes still on?" Marcus Flint asked as he kissed his way down her neck._

Pansy sighed in contentment. "I'll take them off later."

He stopped and abruptly pushed her away. "Why is it every time we do this, I'm the one who ends up naked and well, you know—"He blushed and made a few awkward hand gestures. "—and you're the one who walks away with your knickers still on?"

Rolling her eyes, Pansy stood up and began to gather his clothes. "I don't know Marcus, but look at the time. "

A red-faced Marcus scrambled to his feet after her. "Wait!"

"I simply must _be going."_

He stomped his foot angrily. "Zach told me that this would be easy! He said that it took him two weeks to get in your knickers!"

Pansy's eyebrow rose ever so slowly in an attempt to stop herself from laughing.

Ranting, naked boys were just too much fun.

"How come you're making this difficult for me?"

The witch smiled angelically—or as angelically as she could muster. "You might want to inquire of Mr. Smith exactly how far he really got." Humming tunelessly, she put his wand on top of the pile and began to walk out of the room. "Good luck getting back to your tower. I hear Granger is patrolling tonight. I don't think she would be too pleased to catch a naked Slytherin—"

That did the trick. Perfect. Marcus jumped and covered himself precariously. Then he realised that his clothes were in her hands. Silly boy. "Where are you going with my stuff?!"

"Don't worry. You'll get it back… eventually."

He started to lunge at her, but a quick Body Bind from his wand stopped him. Pansy wanted to laugh at the irony. She approached the frozen wizard and wagged his wand in his face. "Didn't your mother teach you any manners?" Pansy kissed his cheek, spun on her heels, and walked to the door. Before she unfroze him and shut the door behind her, she said, "Good luck avoiding Granger."

It had really all been Marcus' fault. She had caught him bullying Blaise halfway through fifth year. She then decided to teach him a lesson and take him down a couple of pegs. It had worked, and the story had been the source of many a laugh between herself, Blaise, and Draco.

ooo

Thirteen boys and two years later, Pansy realized that she had a bit of a problem. There were too many boys chasing her, and none of them were worth her time. It was time that she became the predator … well, more so than she already was. She needed to chase someone. She needed a fucking challenge. The _challenge_ showed himself not more than a week later.

The first time Pansy caught _him_ staring at her was in History of Magic.

It wasn't an invasive stare, like Draco tended to direct at Granger, like he couldn't wait to get into her knickers. No, this was a curious stare—maybe just a little on the intense side, too. Needless to say, it made her uncomfortable. It was like he was trying to figure her out or trying to find a way to divulge her of her secrets.

No one had ever looked at her that way before.

Most of the 'gentlemen' at Hogwarts tended to stare at her like they were imagining what she'd look like under them, but he didn't.

And that made Harry Potter different.

Different was an enticing opportunity.

Pansy was like a cat seeing a squirrel for the first time. She had been toying with mice all her life, and it was time for new game. Harry Potter was known for being selective, having only dated two girls in his entire seven years at Hogwarts, and Pansy, if anything, needed a challenge.

She started small, testing the waters, so to speak. Why? It was simple. She did _not_ do rejection.

Pansy tested the Harry Potter waters by accident one afternoon when she just so happened to be walking directly in front of a rushing Potter in the halls.

"Oops. Sorry. Didn't see you there," the wizard murmured, still not really paying attention.

Pansy rolled her eyes, pretending to be annoyed. "Charm your eyes! Those bloody spectacles are clearly not working."

And she started to walk away, but couldn't help herself. She had to look.

To her surprise, Potter wore a slight smile on his face. "I'll take it into consideration, along with your usual suggestions about my appearance, but as you can see I still look the same as always. I'm thinking that I'm not taking your suggestions appropriately. Think you can give me pointers?"

Pansy turned around abruptly and backed him into the wall. Potter, much to her consternation, didn't even flinch. In fact, he smiled. She narrowed her eyes, "Not that anything I said would actually _help_ you. Haven't you heard? You're the hopeless hero."

"And what are they calling you these days, Parkinson?"

Pansy ignored his question and poked him in the chest. "You might want to watch where you're going next time. I would really appreciate _not_ falling." She then whispered in his ear, "You're really quite intriguing when you're trying to be witty."

His eyes widened slightly. "Thanks, Parkinson. I'll remember that." He slowly moved her away from him and continued rushing on his way.

He proceeded to bump into her three times after that.

When she felt his eyes follow her after the second time, she felt a surge of triumph but didn't let it go to her head. She was only, after all, in the beginning stages of the chase. It was no time to get arrogant. The third time he bumped into her, she only smiled slightly and planned her next move. He _was_ interested.

The game was definitely on.

Feeling a bit more devious, Pansy decided to see exactly how much of an effect she had on him and put that plan into action the very next time she saw him by pretending to trip. She ended up knocking him over in the process and made sure that every single inch of her body was neatly pressed against him. Potter only smirked as he helped her up, slightly rolling his hips into hers in the process. Pansy was appropriately shocked, because the three other times she had tried this exact maneuver on other boys, she had only received stammering and blushing. Of course, Pansy didn't miss a beat though; while his reaction had been slightly unnerving, as he helped her up, she _accidentally_ brushed his groin.

It was time to play blushing maiden.

"Sorry, Potter. I didn't-" She blushed. "I mean I wasn't…"

Harry smirked at her obvious discomfort. "Happens all the time. Don't worry about it."

Pansy shook her head and forced herself to look at the wall. "Oh, well then."

"Be careful, Parkinson." He handed the books to her. "Wouldn't want you to break a nail or something."

She glared and sashayed off with all of her dignity intact. She smirked as she walked down the hall.

This might _actually_ be worth her time.

Next, she needed to see if he was a worthy opponent. So, this time she decided to screw tradition and sit with Hermione at the Gryffindor table.

She and Granger had become friendly when the witch had started dating Draco a few months into seventh year. Pansy hadn't told him anything about this latest conquest because, well, Granger was best friends with Potter, and she might prove a good trump card in the game. Pansy did not need Draco to blab and alienate her resources.

No, that just would not do.

During lunch, Seamus had tried to talk her up. How tedious. Pansy responded as politely as she could muster, but it was becoming slightly taxing not to show her annoyance. It followed her plan, though. She needed someone to chat her up, but she had hoped it would be someone else. Seamus was, well, _Seamus_, but he would do. Every now and then, Pansy covertly watched Harry. He seemed very amused but was openly glancing at her, so it wasn't a complete waste.

When Seamus finally left, Pansy turned and, not only did she and Potter make eye-contact, he _winked_! Wait, or did he have something in his eye? He smiled. Nope. Definitely a wink. Potter was flirting! She caught herself before she let on to just how shocked she was. Pansy just flashed her most inviting smile and turned to talk to a curious Granger.

Clearly this was going to be more difficult than she thought.

Pansy needed to think.

And she determined that it was time to pull out the big wands.

Well, as soon as she decided what _exactly_ those big wands would be, she was definitely going to put it into action as soon as possible.

She retreated for the next few days, taking time to observe her opponent. Pansy had never once suspected that—out of all the guys she had toyed with—Harry Potter would be her match. Only she couldn't be certain until she tried just one more thing.

She had one day to get her plan into action.

And she needed to find Hermione Granger.

Granger was, well, exactly where she thought she would be: in the Head Dorms, making out with Draco under the pretense of studying. Pansy rolled her eyes and unceremoniously pulled her out from under him and into her room.

_"Pansy?" Hermione looked a little dazed._

Pansy snapped her fingers in front of her face. "Focus Granger. I need your help."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Did you really just interrupt me so that you could get another password?"

"Yes."

Hermione tapped her foot. "And what if I don't do it?"

Pansy rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest. "Really, Granger? Do you really want to play this game with me?" She sat on Hermione's bed and stared at her nails. "I don't know why you're acting like this is such a big deal. You've given me six passwords this year. One more isn't going to hurt."

"Which one?"

Pansy looked disinterested. "Gryffindor."

"Is this about Seamus?"

Pansy rolled her eyes again. "Are we seriously going to do this?" She put her hands on Hermione's shoulders. "Just give me the password and you can go make out with Draco."

Hermione sighed. "Pansy, aren't you getting tired of doing this?"

"Password?"

"Fine."

ooo

Pansy prepared herself all day.

She took a bath with her most luxurious and rich bath oils so that she would smell like lilacs and vanilla and spelled her hair for hours until it fell in loose waves past her shoulders. She was very careful about her makeup. For what she was about to do, there was a very thin line between risqué and call witch.

It wasn't very hard getting past the Gryffindor portrait at one in the morning. The Fat Lady was drunk and shooed her in after a very long ramble about the benefits of intimacy with a portrait. Pansy listened politely before yawning pointedly and excusing herself from the conversation. This was not something new though. Pansy had been here twice before for Dean Thomas this year alone.

Dean had been fun, and she'd gotten some very good artwork out of the deal.

She went up to the seventh year dorms, her heels barely made a sound on the stone floor. She _wasn't_ nervous … or at least that's what she'd keep telling herself. She would make him beg tonight. He was a teenager, just a normal man with a stupid scar that he'd gotten famous for. The minute she made him hard, Potter would be putty in her hands.

She was going to break him. And it was going to be easy.

Or so she thought.

Harry was waiting for her at the door of his dorms. "I knew you were coming tonight."

"How?" She tried to keep her mouth from dropping. This was not part of the plan.

"Hermione talked to me a couple of hours ago. She said you had asked for the Gryffindor password. She thought you were coming to see Seamus."

This was _unbelievable_! Granger told! That was definitely not a factor she had entered into this. "And what did you say?"

"Nothing, I'm not sure she'd be happy that you were coming up here to seduce me." He looked at her carefully. "Not that you would actually follow through with it."

Pansy's eyes widened. "Where exactly did you hear that?"

Harry shrugged. "I heard Draco and Blaise talking in the loo."

"And you still came after me." She struggled to keep up with her thoughts. Her mind was racing. What the bloody hell was going on here?

Harry smiled awkwardly. "I think you're the one that came after me."

"It's not like you exactly resisted." She looked at him. "So why did you do it?"

"Respond to your advances?" He rubbed the back of his head. "I've never done anything like that before. I've never had a girl throw herself at me. Well not like that anyways. I wanted to see how far you would go."

"So this is all part of the game then?" She swallowed hard. Did she … no she couldn't.

"Not exactly." Harry rubbed his hands against his shorts.

"No. It's okay. I understand. You give great chase Potter." She couldn't breathe. Could she actually have _feelings_ for him?

Harry looked at the ground. "You're stupid, Pansy."

"Stupid?" Her mouth dropped. "What do you mean, stupid?"

"I mean, do you honestly think I would be sitting here waiting for you if I just wanted the chase?" he asked her softly.

Pansy's mouth went dry. "What do you mean?"

Harry cleared his throat. "I don't do things I don't mean, Pansy."

Pansy's mind raced. Did he want to sleep with her? He'd certainly been sending the signals. "So you want me."

Harry looked at her strangely. "Yes."

Pansy laughed. "You want to sleep with me? That's all this is about?"

Harry blanched. "What? No."

She looked at the floor. "Then what do you want?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"I told you." He grabbed her hand. "I want you."

She looked at their intertwined hands with something akin to fascination. She hadn't done this before. Not even with Blaise. Were hands supposed to be this sweaty? She looked at him. "What exactly does that entail?"

He squeezed her hand. "I don't exactly know." He looked at her and smiled. "I don't think I've ever quite done this before." At her questioning gaze, he continued. "I haven't exactly felt this way in awhile, and I don't think you're anything like Ginny or Cho."

Pansy laughed. "I would assume not. We're making this up as we go along?"

"Yeah, you'd have to give up your maneater days."

"I think I can do that," she replied.

"Really?" He moved closer to her. "You'd have to let me walk you to your classes."

She smiled. "I think that could be arranged."

He smiled back. "I think I'd like to snog you now."

She struggled to hold in a laugh. He was turning wonderfully red. "I think I'd like that too."

So she did.

Squirrels were obviously very rare, intriguing creatures.

This cat would never chase mice again.

The end.


End file.
